


Carrot and stick

by cain_kakushi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Discipline, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Negotiations, Non-Sexual Spanking, Personal Growth, Pining, Smoking, Spanking, Takeda Ittetsu is a top, Underage Smoking, Withdrawal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27509026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cain_kakushi/pseuds/cain_kakushi
Summary: "The most you do?" The disbelieving tone came back, prompting the beginning of an argument that they could not escape. Albeit appealing, leaving the protection of the umbrella was not happening for the coach. "The most you do is setting an example for them, Ukai-kun. And that’s a lot."Or; Coming to terms with an addiction is never easy, and it certainly isn't for someone who has yet to find his place of mind. Takeda-sensei helps Ukai understand his worth, the value of his example, and face the consequences of smoking.WARNING:Will contain corporal punishment (in the form of spanking) from an adult to the other. It'll remain non-sexual.
Relationships: Takeda Ittetsu/Ukai Keishin
Comments: 18
Kudos: 43





	1. Filter

**Author's Note:**

> Did the fandom need me? No! Did I need the fandom? Yes!  
> I was inspired by the lovely writers on the platform; I chat with most of them and if you’re reading - **thank you**! To each and every one of you. You’re all very talented and you basically dragged me in the fandom by osmosis! I was in thanks to your cp fics basically, and I stayed for the precious bois and my unconditional love for shounens. Also, thank you so much for the support you showed me when I sent you the first part. It means everything for me.

Smoking in the rain was never a good idea. Lord knew how many cigarettes he wasted while trying to seem cool and mysterious. And still, he found himself fidgeting again with the loose one sitting in his pocket, grazing his nails on the plush filter to the grain of the paper, back and forth, letting tobacco dust and spill.

Ukai just had one before leaving, but walking around the school ground’s exit was giving him old man nostalgia over nothing. The slippery slope was lonely as it poured; the only exception being a couple of students, the boy holding out an open umbrella for his girlfriend.

With his hood hanging well over his forehead, the only thing visible remained his smile.  _ Enjoy it while it lasts _ , it seemed to say as his lips were quickly shut with the cigarette.

The determination, the willpower, the seemingly infinite push of energy that coursed through the students' veins; it was amazing to watch from the outside. It filled the air like some sort of aura, a power that they would never realize to have until too late.

Like all of the best things, it was meant to wither slowly and steadily in the aftershocks of high school. Was he envious of bratty sixteen year olds?

No, he would never admit it out loud. After all, he had done his part and crossed that bridge years ago. With that on his mind, Ukai went to reach for his back pocket.

_ Perfect _ , he had forgotten his lighter in the gym.

No need to panic - that wasn’t typical of him, but it did  **not** make him old. He had been on another planet all afternoon, trying to gather info about the team and put the pieces together, so it was only natural he would be forgetful.

Screw all of them. No matter how much his lungs rejected smoke, how his mother wanted him to marry already, or how effortlessly he conversated with  _ aged _ customers, Ukai Keishin still had every bit of fire in him.

The charcoal in his eyes burned still - though there was a specific brand of flames that could not be replicated.

As he slid the gym’s doors open, that familiar scent of rubber and stale air hit more than his lungs. He had swore to never return to Karasuno, but the thrill of the fight was therapeutic to a degree.

After years, basking in that feeling of spent bliss following the afternoon practices had become his favorite thing again.  _ Would he ever admit that? _ Probably not in front of Takeda, or at least not yet. Their dear  _ sensei _ seemed happy enough that Ukai decided to coach his students; giving him other satisfactions was bound to make him meltdown.

That had to be cute too, but Ukai filed the thought to keep it for a later time. Or at least he tried.

It should have been natural: he hated insistent people with a passion. Door-to-door salesmen? Out. Blockheads with little self-respect for themselves? Out. Someone who came to the shop to buy the same pack of gums every day just to have an excuse to pester him about a favor?

Ukai wished he could have said  _ out _ so easily.

The ticking of the clock echoed in the empty gym, reverberating so loudly that it woke him up. 

It was late already, what was he doing thinking about that?!

What did he do after smoking? Did he even remember? He paced the gym from top to bottom as he thought about it, recalling the events, suddenly grateful to have bought the lighter of a jarring colour - bright pink - to make sure that Yusuke would not steal it again… that was,  _ that jarring colour that would still not come in sight. _

That twinge of irritability was enough to spin him into the beginning of a withdrawal headache. The cigarette in his lips wrinkled when Ukai pouted, spilling another round of unlit tobacco on the clean parquet. He bent down to check under the mats: could it be that those hyperactive freaks found it on the floor and tossed it around by accident? 

There was no hint of pink under there, but just as he tried to get to stand straight again, something loud made him jolt; so sudden that he did not realize what happened until his chin was buried in the heap of mats, upper body following shortly after.

Time was changing him, but he did not become a scaredy cat all of a sudden. He did not jolt forwards on his own, and when sting -  _ sting of all things _ \- fizzled on his backside-

Ukai held the filter with his canines, shooting a deathly glare at whoever thought it was a good idea to smack his ass like that. “Who the fu-”

“Ukai-kun,  _ really _ ?” That strict voice wasn’t overpowering his, but the sight of Takeda standing behind him made Ukai choke on his words anyway and spit the cigarette by his side. The shadow of disappointment loomed on the teacher’s forehead, hands fisted at his hips and looking down at the coach. “Smoking indoors?”

There was a moment of silence that lingered too much. Ukai did not make a move to get up; somehow, the thought of standing was just as humiliating as staying still, so he set to twist his torso in an uncomfortable manner to face Takeda. “It’s unlit.” He stated, throat dry, pointing a finger to the crumpled cigarette.

Color slowly drained from Takeda’s face. “Unlit…?” The teacher stammered and took a step backwards for good measure. He brought his right hand face-level to look at it in disbelief, then shot a glance back at the coach. “...I’m so sorry! I really- I really thought- the fact that you had it in your mouth- and- why would you hold it like that?”

Honestly? That might have been a force of habit. Now that the threat disappeared, Ukai sighed and got up, making sure to wipe off the dust from his track pants. “Lost my lighter, was searching for it.” He huffed, picking up the too-ruined cigarette between his index and thumb.

Well, that was definitely a waste.

The teacher tilted his head to the side. “Don’t you sell lighters at the shop?”

“We used to… they’re banned now.”

“ _ Banned _ ?”

“Yes.” Ukai covered his head with the hood again, stopping at the entrance to lose himself in the shower - like it could calm him down. “Basically, to buy another lighter I would have to walk half a kilometer and enter the next convenience store. Too much work, and I hate the guy.”

Takeda’s steps were swift and weightless, so much that it was like he appeared beside him rather than walking. He was clutching a clear umbrella in his hands and Ukai couldn’t decide if it looked enormous because it actually was, or because it was the teacher to wield it. When a smirk appeared on his gentle features, though, Ukai was quick to look away.

No, the rain wasn’t helping at all.

“Shouldn’t you be selling umbrellas too?” The teacher chucked, “You’re soaked. It would be a mess if, of all people, the coach caught a cold.”

It was interesting how Takeda put way too much faith in him for some things and at the same time, very little for others. “I don’t catch colds, nuh-uh.” Ukai clarified, a fist coming to tap at his chest in a proud manner. “I’m sickness-proof. Two drops won’t-”

The words didn’t even leave his mouth: it took less than two seconds for the black clouds to fold on each other and for the slow rain to become a proper downpour.

The most upsetting thing was that if he had headed straight for the shop, he would have made it.

Takeda, though, was unfazed: he opened the umbrella with his usual calm expression, stepping out on the concrete. Heavy drops bounced off of the clear plastic, making him look like a miracle that rain could not touch. “Ukai-kun?” He called, lifting the umbrella higher. “Come, I’ll give you a lift.”

Bratty sixteen year olds had an advantage: their overflowing emotions, so dangerously intense and glittering, did not need understanding. They just spilled out of them continuously, forcing them to go with the flow, to act even if they did not understand what was going on.

And that mindful uncertainty, maybe, made Ukai feel even more old than he really was.

The moment for infatuations was supposed to be gone, passed,  _ buried  _ in his teen years along with shaved hair and all-nighters, but then Takeda just  _ had  _ to slide in with an umbrella.

It was awkward, really, how their shoulders touched and retreated at every step, or how walking a step behind him only proved to be worse, or how the rain still tried to graze at their backs-

“Are you trying to quit?”

The words came so suddenly that it was a miracle Ukai even heard them.

Quit? Quit what? Quit their umbrella sharing? Quit the club again? The coach found himself clueless - at least until he heard the squashed cigarette rustle in the pocket of his hoodie.

_ Quit smoking. _

Had he really managed to forget about it?

"Kind of."

"... How do you  _ kind of _ quit?" Takeda questioned, turning to look at him.

The coach took advantage of the clear umbrella to take his eyes elsewhere. "I'm not trying to downright stop smoking. I just need to limit myself so I don't go overboard."

It wasn't much of an addiction at that point, but a habit. To have his lips gently wrapped about something, hearing the crisp sound of paper burning as the flames touched it, inhaling - and then letting out the smoke like it was something  _ he _ created from his own insides being on fire.

The first couple of weeks, it was wonderful. Nicotine poured all over his body in a warm shower, taking the steam off of his temper. But then, like all addictions, it took very little time for that gesture to become a mere reinforcement.

The one thing that he still found pleasure in was watching freckles of dust swirl around in the grey clouds; those at least calmed him down.

The soft, white clouds that appeared at every of their exhale were not the same thing, but remained charming: the way the cold prickled at Takeda’s nose, making it appear red and warm, was the only reason Ukai blessed the sudden drop in temperature.

Just like before, it was the teacher’s voice to snap him to reality again.

"Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Sure?"

"How many do you smoke a day?"

It was hard counting them. In the pauses, after every meal, to take random breathers... "One and half on the good days." Ukai dared to say, rounding the number a little.  _ Two on the bad ones _ , he wanted to add, but the metal ribs of the umbrella bonked on his head before he could.

"You mean,  _ packs _ ?"

Ukai nodded. "Of twenty, yes."

Again with the silence. The coach glanced down at Takeda: frizzy from humidity, his dark hair was covering his eyes. The only thing he could see was the pink dusting on the soft of his cheek and a pout pulling at his lips. Was he  _ upset _ ?

"I'm glad you're trying to quit." The teacher said, bonking the umbrella down again. By mistake, it seemed, but Ukai couldn’t be sure. "It's unhealthy in many, many ways. Sports and smoking don't go well together, right?  _ A packet and a half _ …" he repeated in disbelief, "Doesn't it put you in a strain? I mean, your breathing..."

_ I breathe just fine _ , Ukai would have wanted to say, but as blunt as he usually sounded, it would have been too rude. "It doesn't." He said instead, hands buried in his pockets. "Besides, it's not like I run around! The most I do these days is spike for them."

" _ The most you do _ ?" The disbelieving tone came back, prompting the beginning of an argument that they could not escape. Albeit appealing, leaving the protection of the umbrella was  _ not _ happening for the coach. "The most you do is setting an example for them, Ukai-kun. And that’s a lot."

"I meant, the most I do physically,"

"My point still stands."

"Oi-" Ukai grabbed the handle of the umbrella to stop the teacher from walking. "I don't have to raise them. If they pick up unhealthy habits, it's on them. They should know better than risk their role for a smoke."

It wasn't an impression: Takeda's glasses fogged, and whether it was for the warmth of his cheeks or for the  _ flare _ in his eyes, Ukai instantly knew that it was his fault. 

"Their  _ role _ ? It's not about a role! It's about their health!" Takeda  **scolded** . "You can't tell me that you wouldn't do anything to help them! And you can't tell me you wouldn't feel responsible for their wellbeing. I know you're better than that, Ukai-kun."

_ What? _ What did he know, exactly? 

The coach narrowed his eyes and arched his shoulders, head leaning down to be nose to nose with Takeda. "Really? They're teenagers, you can't contain them. For every thing you tell them not to do, they go and invent new ones to piss you off. It shouldn't be our problem. We're not their parents." 

"How could you forget the time when you were in their position?! It wasn't that long ago!"

"I didn't forget it!"

"Then you should know they still need guidance! The kids spend most of their day in school, and then at the club. The only time they see their parents is at dinner, if it all goes well. We do need to set an example." 

"It doesn't work. What do you plan on doing if you catch them smoking after school? Blame yourself and start to freak out or call their parents and threaten to kick them out of the team? Which would be more effective?"

Takeda’s cheeks puffed up as if words were begging to come out, but he remained silent, staring at Ukai and still not able to find the right way to explain himself.

For all that was worth, the coach won that argument. What did Takeda want from him now? He did not need to be responsible for anything else but the state of the team, and that ought to be true for the teacher too, who already had the added task of grading their tests. Why make things so complicated? 

Ukai took a step back. The rain was feeble and the lights of the shop, nearer than before, shined in his direction. It was time to go.

"We are here to be this specific part of their lives. Nothing else." The coach said, walking away with a hand up to say goodbye.

But Takeda, being the insistent type, could not let go. “When did you begin?”

“Listen, we can’t possibly know what to do,”

“When did you begin smoking?” He repeated, voice clear and loud to be heard on top of both Ukai and the pour.

The coach stopped in his tracks. Why would that be important now? Looking over his shoulder, he could notice how Takeda’s stare was even more determined than before. He did hate insistent people -

for him, though, Ukai could make an exception. He trusted his instinct and answered. “Eighteen.”

Takeda tightened the hold against his umbrella. "And what did your parents do about it?"

"Nothing? I was out of high school already." 

Ukai would have wanted to say that he was of age already since it surely felt like it at the time, but…  _ oops? _ It wasn’t news: if teens had every means for buying alcohol without a proper id, it was the same for cigarettes. 

Life seemed to go by so quickly that waiting two years had seemed impossible for him; yet, Ukai still had the sensation that if he had done that damned waiting, he would have never begun in the first place.

Wow, waves of regrets were always fun.

  
  


There was a moment of uncertainty in which the teacher’s eyes widened, leaving space for a dumbfounded expression to emerge. It lasted very little.    
"Well, I do know what I would do." He confidently said, back to a stern glance. The darkness in his eyes underlined a threatening resolve, but there wasn’t anything to be surprised of. 

Maybe that was the difference - the less obvious one, at least - between them.

Takeda Ittetsu was built like that: kind, hardworking, trustworthy. He was a proper adult, and while whatever fire had long cooled off, it had left an immense sense of steadiness that still slipped from Ukai’s fingers. 

For once that day, the coach did not feel like an old man. There wasn’t any bratty sixteen year old before him, that much was obvious, but it wasn’t like the role reversed either. In fact, it was much scarier.

It was a void.

When does the feeling of being in-between stop? When you feel disconnected with the youth, detached and still longing for it, but are halfway from landing on the other side of life? 

When would he be able to make selfless decisions? To watch further than his own nose again? Was it really just an age problem?

His hands tightened in the hoodie, instinctively searching for the pack of cigarettes. Thinking never did him any good, and that was enough proof. It would have been best to sink in that stupid nostalgia and call it a day.

So, Takeda knew what to do? "Good for you." Ukai shrugged, turning back to the deserted streets. 

"Ukai-kun-"

“Thanks for the  _ lift _ .”

Case closed, he wished he could have said while hurriedly crossing the street. It was late already, so he did not stop at the shop; instead, the coach took a turn and headed for the nearest convenience store.

He hated the guy, but someone had to sell him a lighter right in that instant.


	2. What's left of a stub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The coach would have paid gold to know what was going on behind those big, dark olive eyes.  
>  _“I do know what I would do”_ Takeda had said with a stern resolve when talking about consequences, _consequences of smoking to be precise_ , and these words finally clicked together in Ukai’s mind.
> 
> Or; The actual, angsty spanking. Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! This chapter is longer than anticiped. Like, _a lot_ longer than I wanted it to be. Thanks for waiting though!  
> Also, since I'm of the idea that negotiations and consent are very snazzy, I made sure to include some.

Certain sounds make you smile as a reflex. Be it a childhood memory, a pleasant sensation or the ghost of a heartache, it's rare that you get to understand **why** \- it just happens, especially if it's not the right moment, and you can't help but shut your lips and try to stifle it like a bittersweet joy.

It proved to be harder to do for Ukai.

It had been a good afternoon overall, meaning that his usual cranky behavior was soothed already. Things weren’t looking like a challenge anymore, especially for the first years, and that secretly lifted a big weight off of the coach’s shoulders.

Not so secretly, to be fair, since Ukai had grinned like an idiot all the time. Pride wasn’t an emotion so easy to smother.

And now, as the last bits of the sun were shining over him and nicotine numbed his jaw, hearing his name in that particular voice managed to bless him even further. It was something electric that shook him under the skin, enough to make the puff of smoke stutter against his teeth with the image of who said it.

_“Ukai-kun?”_

Ukai turned with a grin, picturing Takeda having a smile of his own.

The _scowl_ that he got instead was a freezing shower.

It wasn’t a matter of reading his expression. Their dear sensei tried to keep his cool as much as he could and Ukai could see it in how his brows were fighting to not get glued together, the tense pull on his temples, and mostly, the death grip he held his shoulder strap with.

Blood churned in his veins.

Not that Ukai was _fearing_ Takeda; just looking at him, that soft bundle of inspirational quotes, fright was the last thing he would have felt. There was some dread, though, in the thought of disappointing him. How would you feel disappointing a man with the patience of a saint? The concept was the same.

They hadn’t mentioned their little argument under the rain until then, but an unusual sensation had Ukai thinking that _maybe_ the cigarette in his lips was the one to blame for that tension.

The smoke that lingered in his throat turned sour.

“Is everything alright?” He did not receive any answer; just an awkward, prolonged stare from the teacher. “... I’m outdoors.” The coach muttered, being it the only coherent thing that sprinted through his brain.

“What? No, it’s not that…” The strain in Takeda’s expression faltered, letting something like sadness seep through. “We need to talk.”

* * *

How would you feel knowing that someone disappointed a man with the patience of a saint?

Ukai had the urge to do something, anything to make his displeasure known; the only outlet was tapping his shoe on the floor, back leaning against a locker while he waited for the teacher to join him.

The fact that they needed a place ‘in which they couldn’t be heard’ to talk was proof that something during that sunny day went horribly wrong, and he was not thrilled to be summoned. Was it their grades again? When Takeda finally reappeared in sight, though, it was evident that the students’ marks had nothing to do with the deal. The teacher was way too nervous for it to be a school matter.

Rattling keys in hand (was he trembling?), he shut the storage room’s door from the inside and briskly turned to Ukai. He did not talk, just shoved his hand in his bag and began rummaging through it.

The coach couldn’t bear the tension. Takeda was taking forever, so might as well cut the chase. “Well? Who’s the problem child today?”

“Is this...” he sighed, ignoring the question. “Is this yours?” The teacher held a lighter in front of him: disposable, medium sized, bright pink…

Oh, there it was.

Ukai gave a brief nod. “Eh, it was mine a week ago. Where did it reappear?”

Silence, again, was the most fitting answer.

Ukai and Takeda exchanged looks for a bit. While the teacher remained stoic and collected, the coach's expression gradually _worsened_ as he put two and two together, eyes widening as that awful realization hit him.

Takeda wouldn't ask him to discuss in secret for a lost and found lighter, not unless it had to do with his students.

They couldn't be that stupid, could they? Hyperactive, all over the place, _whatever_ , but **not** stupid. Not delinquents, not punks, hell, some of them might have passed for volleyball nerds instead of normal highschool students. Was it one of the older ones? It couldn’t be. They were too responsible for that... right? Their club room reeked of sweat, not ash. But then who remained?

Ukai couldn't play that frantic guessing game for longer, excluding and including things, trying to pierce together puzzle pieces that did not exist. And he knew it, rationally, but when faced with a reality so bleak, the only thing that came to mind was _why?_

Maybe, _why_ truly did not exist with rowdy teenagers. He couldn’t even remember the reason he started at all. It came to mind in flashes: the blue and silver colors of his first contraband packet, the coughs, the erratic inhales of smoke lingering in all the wrong places of his throat, how it didn’t reach his lungs at all and yet it was exciting, fascinating,  
 _entrancing._

Takeda’s gaze seemed to tell only three words - **I told you**.

And he did.

 _You can't tell me you wouldn't feel responsible for their wellbeing_ , he had said, and it unraveled like a prophecy. Worms of sickening guilt swam in his stomach, whispering how bad of an example he had set, that he should have noticed immediately, that the lighter was his, for heaven’s sake.

“Who?” The coach asked, back straightening and fist balled at his sides.

The teacher closed his eyes to fake some sense of confidence. "I'm not telling you."

"What?!" 

“You said that it’s not your problem, so I won’t bother telling you. I was just informing you of the fact that your lighter almost got one of your _players_ in trouble with the school.”

There was no genius needed: Takeda was doing it on purpose, calling them players, reducing them to their _roles_. Of course he would still be pissed about their argument, considering how insistent he was, and while Ukai would have wanted to ask if that was his way of guilt-tripping him, the words died immediately under the obvious evidence of it all.

There wasn’t most left to do. Either he backed away completely, or he gave in to Takeda’s provocation.

It was at times like these that Ukai was reminded of the fact that he wasn’t built for them. The ache, the pride, the attachment he began feeling for their students - it wasn’t enough to make him able to deal with them as more than a coach, but at the same time, those were also the things that fueled him most. 

And if Takeda was still in that room, that could only mean that he was **waiting** , giving that poor excuse of an adult another opportunity.

“I didn’t mean it that way.” Ukai grumbled, cold fingers shoved in his pockets. “At least, I know that I don’t think it the same way now.”

Takeda exhaled deeply at that admission. “So, you do care for them?”

“What kind of question is that?! Of course I do!”

“I know,” the teacher’s shoulders deflated in relief, “I just wanted to hear it out loud.” A little smile escaped from that serious expression, and for Ukai it was like breathing again. The conversation, though, was not finished at all.

Having got that awkward heartache out of the way, a jolt of warm energy reminded Ukai that he was supposed to be upset about what happened. Sure, the lighter might have been his, but - "Aren’t you going to tell me who it was?" The coach blurted out, omitting the colorful words he wanted to say so much.

Takeda shook his head. "So that you can get mad at him? It won’t do any good. I already made sure he wasn't actually smoking, and turns out that he never even tried."

Anyone could agree that it did not add up one bit. One among them got ahold of that lighter and just… kept it? "What do you mean he wasn't smoking?" Ukai inquired, blood boiling at the thought of someone deceiving their teacher so bluntly.

“Trust me-” the other quickly premised, intercepting that line of thought from the way Ukai frowned. “He told me that he was intrigued, but he couldn't bring himself to actually do it."

"And he held on the lighter for a week?!"

"Yes, pondering if it was worth it or not."

It still did not add up.  
Only someone so stupid and yet so considerate, sincere, undecided and basically grazing to procastinator-

Ah. Sure.

"Tanaka?" Ukai gruffly implied, already picturing that boy picking the lighter up from the floor with a girl in mind, and then regretting it to death. What did he plan on doing? Holding onto that thing to light up their fireworks next summer? You couldn’t impress _anyone_ of _any sex_ with that stupidly bright color, let alone high school girls.

Takeda’s baffled expression was enough of an answer. “How-”

“That’s it. I’m going to kill him.” The coach announced, getting closer to the door in a couple of long strides. He stubbornly tried to push down the handle but was met with a dull clicking of the lock and Takeda’s hand wrapped around his bicep, pulling backwards to make him desist.

“Don’t you try!” The smaller man huffed between the squeaking of his sneakers, stubbornly sliding back on the polished floor. “Tanaka-kun is sincere! And I told you - _I already dealt with him!_ ”

Ukai’s bicep deflated with the rest of his body at those words, almost making the teacher recoil at the loss of contact. What did it mean when Takeda said that he _dealt_ with him? Was that why Tanaka was so distracted during practice? The coach initially thought it was the worst result of another banter with their manager, but if the boy felt so down…

"Did you call his parents?" He asked, the pinch in his stomach making itself felt again. It was the right decision, the thing that Ukai insisted so much on doing, but now he suddenly wished for the teacher to _not_ act on his suggestion.

Takeda straightened the wrinkles on his sweater with the flat of his hand, then looked up to meet Ukai’s brown eyes directly. "I would have if he actually did something illegal, but no. Tanaka is a good kid, he understood what was wrong. He just held onto something that could have gotten him in trouble and for a dangerous reason."

"Did you really let him go scot-free?" The coach sighed, not even upset, just… confused? He should have felt relieved but there was something not clear yet. Maybe it was just the need to deliver the just comeuppance, to scare the kid into not even attempting something like that _ever_ again. "You should have called me. I would ha-"

"I spanked him."

"Eh?"

The delivery was as deadpan as before - “I spanked him.” Takeda repeated, matter-of-factly, staring straight into Ukai.

The coach would have paid gold to know what was going on behind those big, dark olive eyes. 

_“I do know what I would do”_ Takeda had said with a stern resolve when talking about consequences, _consequences of smoking to be precise_ , and these words finally clicked together in Ukai’s mind.

Takeda - the adult, the teacher, the one that everyone looked up to - spanked one of his students. The same Takeda that was before him now had used corporal punishment as a disciplinary method on a teenager that same day. Hell, probably less than two hours before practice.

It sounded both totally logical and totally out of place, so much that confusion ended up turning Ukai’s brain to mashed potatoes. Takeda spanked a student, **so**? Why would that affect him too now?

“Good for… you? I mean, good for him.” The coach coughed, but the quirk in Takeda’s brow signaled him that _maybe_ that was a strange thing to say. It wasn’t exactly good for either part, not really, better try again. “...so, how did that go?” He asked conversationally, feigning casualness by leaning with an elbow against the door handle. It slipped two times. 

Takeda scratched his head lightly, like he was searching for words. Surely, he did not expect that question. Ukai didn’t expect to ask it either, so that made it two of them. 

“We had a long talk about priorities and the dangers of smoking,” he began, “responsibility… I lectured him. And then he went over my knee, and I’m sure you can imagine what happened next… can you?”

Imagining it was the less useful thing to ask for. Of course Ukai could, and that was part of the problem. The teacher wasn't exactly big and imposing, and his arms too weren't quite able to pack a punch, so overall, Takeda had a lot of qualities but none of them had to do with physical effort.

Ukai could speak from personal experience by saying that a spanking was never fun, but still, he wasn't quite convinced that Tanaka got a fair lesson. 

Maybe if he had been reliable enough, _responsible enough_ , Takeda would have asked him to help instead of dealing with the student alone. 

"Was it just a spanking?" The coach asked, still eyeing the slim outline of Takeda's arms.

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe something harsher would have been better."

"Are you contesting my methods?" The teacher looked perplexed more than upset, but Ukai immediately intercepted the trap that lingered in that question.

He should have backed away from that conversation before saying anything stupid. 

"I'm just saying that… you know?" The coach gestured, trying to play it safe by not using his words. "Teenagers?"

"Ukai-kun, trust me, it's sufficient." Takeda said, an angel-like smile pulling at his lips and finally brightening the room. That man really had the patience of a saint, but he could not realize the power he held on Ukai. If he said to _trust him_ then hell, the coach would have done it blindly. And yet, all of that holy aura, that _halo_ of reassurance, fell off when Takeda spoke again. 

"In fact, I think that the same treatment is going to benefit you too."

Words spoken in the same hushed tone as always, and yet they sounded like lead marbles hitting the floor.

Ukai didn't register the meaning at first, too busy holding his stomach; it had caved on itself at the same time the teacher's expression shifted from precious and reassuring to stern.

But nothing of that was possible, right?

He was an adult, definitely not one of his students, and the _coach_. Takeda and him should have been equals. None of that nonsense was meant to be taken seriously, clearly.

"Oh," Was still the only sound that his dry throat could let out. _Damn?_ Ukai shook his head and laughed, "you really had me shivering for a second. Maybe I underestimated you."

"Ukai-kun, I'm being serious. You never got consequences, did you? That changes today."

It stabbed in a point so vulnerable and soft that Ukai almost recoiled at that word. “ _Consequences_ for what?” He scoffed, a bit of that attitude bleeding from the fresh wound.

Takeda held his gaze. "Smoking in front of my students without care, reducing them to their roles and losing a lighter in the gym where such things should not be allowed at all."

By asking that question he didn't want an actual list, but of course, the teacher was right. He knew what he was doing, and it was enough to make Ukai's earlier boost of confidence crumble under guilt. It wasn't enough, though, to justify getting punished like a bratty teenager. Call it painful, humiliating, downright strange - it just didn't make sense! 

"Drop it, it wouldn't work..." Ukai huffed, "It's the way I am."

"It's not, and you already showed me." Takeda backed further in the room, where a dusting and discarded bench was. No sane human would have sat there unless they had to, further proof of how serious and _ready_ he was. “I know that this is your first time acting as a coach, and having to set an example for someone else is tiring, but that's exactly why you need to be corrected. It will allow you to grow."

_Grow?_

His idea of growing had always discarded the fake consequences imposed from adults. They were useless for someone as hardheaded as him. Why waste efforts and good intentions on a punk? It might have worked until he was still twelve or thirteen at best, but as time passed no one tried anymore. He wasn’t someone searching for brawls, maybe the opposite, so as long as he didn’t get into fights or brought problems at home, then it was fine - no, better, **expected** from him to go his own way. 

His idea of growing was to make his own decisions at his own pace, without looking back. But if that attitude had led him to have a problematic addiction, getting lost in not so fun existential crisis every odd afternoon, and be threatened to be punished like a child at the age of 26, maybe something did go wrong.

And Takeda - little, scary, patient Takeda - was actually giving a damn about it. Would it really work as promised? Would it correct anything at all? For all the trust he put in that guy, for the weight of the bad decisions and the twinge of guilt that he would not be able to smoke away, for the solutions that never came to vision - for these and a series of motives that could not be translated into words, Ukai got right in front of Takeda.

At best, he’d get an answer; at worst, a beating delivered by tiny hands.

There was no hostility in the way he stood there, but the teacher seemed to be taken aback anyway. "Are you complying…?" He murmured, suspicious, looking up to meet his gaze.

Ukai nodded. "Quick, before I change my mind."

Takeda sighed at that, but said nothing. The fact that the coach did not run away seemed to be good enough. He unrolled a towel on the bench, it was a good meter far from him, and got his bag down at his feet. "You should get your head and hands on there, while…" The teacher coughed, eyes glued to the towel. "The wood is old and could splint."

"While I'm going over your knee?" Ukai finished the line for him. The coach eyed Takeda's left leg, firmly planted to the ground, and nodded to himself: he was way too tall and heavy to be held on the teacher's legs for long, so half-lying on the bench made sense. "So? Do I go now?"

"Wait-" The other held a hand in front of him. "Just- just because it's you, we should have a word to stop. In case you feel uncomfortable…" The volume of his voice got lower after every word.

Ukai grinned at that. "I know what a safeword is, sensei." He doubted they would have used it at all, given the poor faith he put in Takeda's arms, but that level of care was adorable. If it made him feel better, then Ukai would comply with that request too. "Make it… _medal_? Is it good?"

"Sure! So…"

Ukai spared the teacher of the awkward question and went down on his own, unsure fingers gripping the towel in front of him. He felt Takeda repositioning him already, a hand politely held against his waist and the other pressed down on the middle of his back. It wasn't an uncomfortable position, but Ukai just _knew_ that he would feel the ache of it the next morning.

It was a foreign sensation, numbing almost, so much that he did not register how embarrassing it was until he felt Takeda's fingers reach for his hair - not to yank it back, like a lover of his would have done, but to gently push his head down on the towel.

"Your neck will be sore if you don't relax."

The coach groaned in response. With his head turned to the side, he could see little specks of dust dancing slowly in front of them: it calmed him down, allowing for his cheek to sink further in the clean cloth.  
What did he need care for while being punished, he still did not understand.

Takeda’s soothing voice sounded far and alien from above him. “I’m going to explain what’s going to happen. If there’s something wrong, object now.”

“Sure, I’m listening…”

“You’re getting a warm up with your trackpants on. They’re coming down after that.”

Ukai let out a not so enthusiastic huff, but nodded at these words. It sounded fair enough.

As if taking courage to speak again, the two fingers that were running circles on the coach’s lower back came to a halt. “Your underwear too.” 

Ukai sent a glare over his shoulder. “Now that’s stupid.”

“I have to see to not hurt you.” Takeda explained calmly, eyes shining with a polite resolve. It was dangerous, how he could put on that face and manage to get anything out of Ukai. “Please? If it doesn’t make you uncomfortable…”

The man in his lap groaned again and turned away from him, his nose squishing against the bench. “...okay, do it.”

The huff of relief that Takeda produced sent a shiver running down Ukai's spine - and when it hit his tailbone to find his ass raised like that, perched on top of the teacher's thigh, it left his whole being cringing to squirm away. That spanking idea had sounded simple enough on paper, but now that position was giving him something more than embarrassment.

As much as he wanted to say _arousal_ , or at least he had hoped to think it at some point, it turned out to be _vulnerability_. Something akin to torture. As if each second in that position could let an imaginary drop of water fall on Ukai's scalp.

“Thank you. I’m going to use a ruler-”

“Alright, alright!” Ukai hurriedly answered, cradling his head with his forearms. “Just get it over with.”

“As you wish.”

The only warning he got was Takeda’s left hand gripping his hip, as if to steady himself, before the first smack landed. The gasp of surprise that escaped Ukai was nothing but inappropriate, and he quickly went to press his lips against the back of his hand to keep the trap shut. It wasn’t _painful_ \- well, it wasn’t pleasant either - but having a palm raining against his backside without any means to brace for the impact… okay, maybe it was painful.

The coach looked over his shoulder, just in time to catch Takeda’s hand landing. Was it the fourth or the fifth? He had lost count already, too busy tightening his throat as to not sigh. The soreness was slowly piling up under the open-handed swats, that had now lost all of the shyness of the first ones - and yet, as predicted, it was not unbearable. All that was left for him was to relax and take it…? How did that really work?

“ _Ukai-kun_.” 

The coach caught only a glimpse of Takeda’s expression. The frown that the teacher had painted on his face was enough to make Ukai rush to bury his face in the towel, no further words needed.

Takeda delivered two brisk swats, one for each side, like someone would clap their hands to demand attention. “Can you tell me why you are getting punished?”

“Being a dick?” It was the wrong answer: that brief pause broke under another round of spanks, and this time Ukai’s shoes squeaked on the floor in a fit of pain. “I mean-! Dropping the lighter!”

“Not dropping it, but bringing it.” The teacher corrected him, stopping only to grab the rubber band at the coach’s hips and drag it down in a calm, methodical manner.

Ukai gulped louder than he intended to. Takeda taking his sweet time made him hyper aware of what was happening: the chill of the room, how cold was the back of the teacher's fingers, the way the fabric dragged and pulled until it reached his knee… there was no reason to push his sweats so far down! It gave him goosebumps all over, and he was sure that the hairs raised at the back of his thighs were making it far too clear. He had to be looking like a porcupine.

"Listen, I'm a smoker, it's only fair I'd be carrying- AH-!" He was interrupted by Takeda's hand smacking forcefully on top of his thighs; it targeted the same spot over and over, a sting so great that Ukai was positive he would bear _scars_.

Maybe saying that it was **fair** hadn't been the correct choice of words.

"A-and-" Ukai wanted to correct himself so much, but why was his voice trembling now?! His shoes squeaked pathetically as he squirmed against Takeda's thigh, silently begging to give him a break. "And I set a bad example with that!"

Seemingly satisfied with those words, Takeda stopped the hits and rubbed a bit of pain away with his hand, delicately stroking the back of Ukai's thighs. "No more cigarettes in here, are we clear?"

The coach nodded, as his strength to speak was long gone. He didn't even have the time to process what was happening! Did his track pants really absorb that much sting? Were his legs simply more delicate? There was no way that it was all fault of those tiny hands, was it?!

“This,” another spank landed, “is to remember that not only they are impressionable, but we are here as educators. I don’t want to see you smoking in front of them again.”

As much as he wanted to say that yes, he understood, Takeda surely did not. “It’s an addiction, _fuck_ -” he hissed, interrupted again by a whallop on his thigh.

“Language.”

The plush towel had never been so wrinkly under his hands. “I made sure they weren’t around!”

“You were still on school grounds!”

Blond strands of hair escaped from his headband as Ukai lowered his head. It was shame that got him first, because Takeda was right: nothing was going to justify smoking on school grounds, worse, the fact that it was an addiction might have made it even more problematic. That gesture so familiar and usual had taken his life by the neck.

He hated getting scolded, he always did, because that meant that he failed. And while he knew already that his behaviour was wrong, being confronted about it took away the last bit of reassurance he could bask in: the fact that he was exaggerating, that he was not harming anyone but himself, that no one could care about it, that he had time to confront the problem.

He had hit the snooze button far too many times on that wake up call.

Ukai shifted his legs again, desperate not to kick, to remain stoic and retain at least a bit of dignity on the outside, but the fact that Takeda could _spike_ \- or maybe pound mochi with his hand, if he really wanted to - was giving life to a lot of sounds that the coach wanted gone. At the nth hiss of pain, Ukai opened his jaw and closed it around the back of his hand.

He could drool or even look like a rabid dog, it did not matter.

“Ukai-kun?” Right on cue, Takeda called for him again. His fingers reached for his hair and rested there, shuffling around, nails picking at the headband in an attempt to make Ukai’s jaw relax. “Are you still with me?” The coach groaned an affirmative answer. “In words?”

Why did Takeda stop now? Of all times, when he was finally accepting of deserving that punishment? “...’m fine.” 

“You can be sincere.”

If the red on his face was not enough of a clue already, it quickly spread to his ears. “It’s just…” Ukai huffed, blurry gaze fixed on the faint marks he left on the back of his hand. “I’m mad at myself.”

That moment of contemplative peace ceased when Takeda brought down his hand again, starting a slow rhythm that made Ukai wince. “Because you can’t stop smoking?” The teacher asked softly, spying for any reaction.

Shiny drops swirled in the eyes of the coach. It had been quite some time since they had felt so watery, or since a hollow so deep dug into his throat. “Because it’s stupid-” He hiccuped around it, “I don’t want them to go down this path, but-!”

Who gave him the right to cry? To complain? If it truly was all the result of his choice, _his path_ , then why couldn’t he accept it? Ukai hissed against his hand and bit down again, teeth nibbling at the hard skin like it could make it stop: the need to whimper, the pain, the mortifying thoughts that tried to choke him.

A lean hand gently grabbed his wrist, tracing a thumb along his throbbing artery as it could send the message all the way to his heart. “Did someone tell you that it's not appropriate for a man to cry?” Takeda inquired, guiding Ukai’s hand far from his face. “Because it’s not true, not at all. You need release. By biting you’ll only hurt yourself more.”

Ukai felt his wrist being pinned on his lower back; it wasn’t forceful, yet he let the teacher do it. The blond slumped with his whole weight against the bench, temple pressed on the damp towel. “Why are you doing this?” He simply asked, tired and broken.

“This what?”

“What do you care if I hurt myself now?”

“I care about you.” Takeda slid Ukai’s underwear just enough to uncover skin, but did not linger on it; he drew circles on his tanned hip instead, kneading light enough for it to not be painful. “I care about the fact that you’re the best coach Karasuno could ask for, but I also care about how black your lungs will get if you don’t stop chainsmoking soon. It’s your wellbeing. Why do you care about the students, or your friends, or your family?”

Ukai let out a wet chuckle. “You just had to make it philosophical while baring my ass, didn’t you…”

“I’m made like this,” Takeda smiled, “now, should I go on? I still have some things to tell you.”

A tentative nod was all Ukai could offer and this time, as the teacher’s hand fell on the bare and glowing red skin, he did not try to stifle any sound. He groaned, sighed, yelped even, reactions confusing with the uneven pace that Takeda provided.

“Do you understand how dangerous it is to start smoking so young? To deem it as normal? It hurt you first. Don’t treat it like something minor.” The teacher tightened his hold against Ukai’s wrist but it continued to dangerously wriggle, as if the hand was trying to get a hold of the back of his sweatshirt; as a compromise, Takeda intertwined his fingers with his.

 _That_ got the loudest groan out of Ukai.

“Do you see what consequences are for?” The dark haired man pressed, hits slowing but not stopping yet.

“I know-” it came out as a sob, and with it fell the first stubborn tear. Silently, heavy, the salty stream dripped on the towel and continued to soak it.

Their hands squeezed together in a moment of peace. As tricky as it proved to be, Takeda did not leave that hold even as he went to rummage in his bag. He was searching for something, and Ukai wouldn’t have been surprised if he were to pull out the lighter to make charcoal out of his ass.

He was sure he had never cried that much since the last time his grandfather handled him and yet, tears included, it **was** liberating. That endorphins release helped him remember the reason he started to smoke: he just wanted to feel older, to hold that filter like a baton to adulthood, to have full control of that unsteady future.

He had been naive and maybe, deep down, he still was.

“I shouldn’t have started.” Ukai sighed, forehead flush with his arm.

Takeda clicked his tongue in disapproval. “I disagree. Rather, someone should have stopped you earlier.” 

“Really? I was the first to give up on myself...”

“Maybe, but I do not intend on giving up on you,” The teacher patiently said, “even if that means spanking you again.” With that, the mystery object that Takeda retrieved from his bag tapped against Ukai’s behind in a merciful warning. “Ten hits with the ruler, then you will have paid your price.”

The coach squirmed in place. “Do I have to count them?”

“I’m afraid so. Take your time, tell me when.”

For once after his teen years, being cared for did not hurt inside. It stung like a bitch maybe, but it did not mark him with shame and forced guilt; on the contrary, the weight holding him down lifted, as if two people sharing the responsibility could make the problem less pressuring.

And while the prospect of another ten hits was enough to make his guts writhe, the hand that held his told a different story.

“When.” Ukai whispered, fingertips digging imaginary holes in the abused towel before him.

“One”, the ruler snapped against his skin for the careless behaviour,  
“Two-”, for the tar he forced himself to swallow,  
“Three-”, for all of the times he said it was enough,  
“F-four-”, the sting got worse, coarse on a spot that was already hit twice,  
“Five!” and their fingers intertwined again,  
“S-six!” and when he felt like screaming,  
“Seven-” when air left his lungs in a sudden gasp,  
“Eight! I’m sorry- _fu-_ ” and he breathed in that newly found oxygen,  
“N-nine”, he knew for a fact that nothing, not even nicotine,  
“Ten!”, could compare with that touch.

The same touch that lazily counted his vertebrae in those slow, reassuring strokes, delivered by thin fingers against his broad back.

“I’m sorry, sensei.” The coach whispered.

“It’s alright, _Ukai-kun_.”

Certain sounds make you smile as a reflex.

Ukai had the impression that he could grasp the reason then and there. It wasn’t the right moment, it never was, but he could not wait for a better time to grin.

Bittersweet and nervous, nobody had to see it. That at least was one thing that did not taste like ash when pressed against cotton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for reading and surviving this chapter! This has been a mess but I stayed up til late to finish it, so if you see any typos, I'll probably come back in the morning to edit them. I always miss a couple.
> 
> It wasn't meant to get so emo but guess what? I can't make the homos without tears. Don't we love them? I mean... I hope you do??  
> I'm planning to write more on this work, so see you soon <3 (with a bit of patience)
> 
> You'd make my day by leaving any feedback :3 Love you, and thanks for the incredible support you always gift me. Xoxoxo,  
> Cain

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so so much for reading! Leave any feedback if you’d like - your appreciation fuels me <3  
> See you next chapter! Xoxoxo,  
> Cain
> 
> _(Also, I’m still behind with the anime so please don’t spoil it and please pardon me if I get some things incorrect D: I am CEO of making up incoherent headcanons)_


End file.
